


A Pawn's Gambit

by feisty_mary



Category: Choices: Stories You Play, The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Gen, One-Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28238820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feisty_mary/pseuds/feisty_mary
Summary: On the evening before Lady Sabrina returns to courtly society, she and the Duke of Ramsford share a conversation about her decision to stay in Cordonia.Takes place before the pilot of the second book.
Relationships: King Liam/MC, Prince Liam/MC
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	A Pawn's Gambit

**Author's Note:**

> Related post on Liam can be found [here](https://feisty-mary.tumblr.com/post/166912827924)
> 
> My MC is Sabrina de Marek.

On the evening before Lady Sabrina’s return to courtly society, Bertrand finds her in the living room balcony of the Beaumont estate.

She is still fully made up, wearing an elegant white dress that has been her staple during her training in courtly graces and manners. She holds a glass of wine in her hand, probably from her earlier session of wine etiquette with Maxwell. She appears deep in thought, her gaze fixated on the cackling flames in the hearth.

“Lady Sabrina.”

She looks up, startled, as if she hasn’t been expecting anyone else to be up. It’s nearly midnight and the rest of the help staff has long been dismissed. “Bertrand.” 

Bertrand doesn’t remember when he allowed her to call him by his name – _if_ he ever gave her permission in the first place – but for tonight he decides he’ll let it slide. “You should be getting some rest,” he tells her instead. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

She nods, her eyes surprisingly clear considering how often she has been staying up late for her training. Not for the first time, he notices the ease and poise in her gait; the lessons have been paying off. “I know.” She returns her gaze to the fire, a small smile on her lips. “I’m just excited to see Liam again.”

Bertrand frowns, both calmed and concerned by the odd sense of peace in her bearing. On one hand, her optimism is encouraging; a cool head will serve her better than hysterics. On the other, he can’t quite figure out how she can be so calm and unruffled, as if her reputation hasn’t been ruined overnight and she isn’t poised to lose the crown to another woman.

Bertrand pinches the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he’s just more used to telling her she’s wrong than complimenting her for getting things right.

Lady Sabrina puts down her glass, still half-full. “No need to look so worried,” she says, as if reading his mind. “I haven’t forgotten about the people who set me up.”

Bertrand stifles the almost instinctive urge to snap; there is no sarcasm in her voice. “Don’t misunderstand. I know you have… very strong feelings for the new king.” He looks at her sternly. “But the people we are up against were willing to invade your privacy _and_ destroy your name, just to ensure that King Liam would not be able to choose you. This is _not_ the time to be sentimental. I cannot allow you to return to court thinking that everything will simply work out because you have feelings for the King.”

Lady Sabrina purses her lips, her eyebrows furrowing. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Good. Then we understand each other perfectly.”

Lady Sabrina looks up at him. “Do we?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I have no illusions about everything falling into place just because of how I feel. My life in Cordonia hasn’t exactly been a fairytale since I got here,” she says. “But you can’t expect me to return to court tomorrow without feeling excited about seeing Liam again. It’s been weeks with absolutely no communication with him.” A look of worry passes over her face. “I just want to know how he’s been doing.”

Bertrand huffs, understanding her sentiment but unwilling to acknowledge it out loud. Perhaps it hasn’t been a wise decision to keep her so sheltered from the world outside the Beaumont manor. “His Majesty has been well, as far as I can tell. Much of his time has been dedicated to his responsibilities as the new king and – ” He stops. “What is it?”

Lady Sabrina is shaking her head. “I already know that. Well, I didn’t, but it makes sense that Liam will be busy with those things.” She seems to tense up. “He’s the king now. Everyone expects him to dedicate his life to Cordonia.”

“Just as he has been doing his entire life. It _is_ his duty.” Bertrand notes her suddenly rigid bearing. “You seem upset.”

“Perhaps a little. I have strong feelings about the subject.”

“About King Liam being king? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” Bertrand snaps.

This time Lady Sabrina glares at him. “Not if I’m going to be his queen _and_ his wife,” she replies sharply. 

Bertrand looks at her in surprise. She has consistently alluded to her feelings for King Liam throughout the social season, but this is the first time she openly talks about her future with him. “…I see you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have,” she affirms, rising from her seat. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Bertrand scoffs. “I admit I had… misgivings about Maxwell’s decision in the beginning. But I’m not blind, Lady Sabrina. Anyone with eyes could tell you care deeply about King Liam. It was only a matter of time.” 

Lady Sabrina lifts an eyebrow. “Nice to know you have so much faith in me, Your Grace.”

He snorts, unable to help himself. “I _was_ greatly concerned by your lack of interest in the crown, however. Considering your background in economics and international relations, I would have thought you’d show more enthusiasm.”

“I was alsoworking part-time waiting tables,” she reminds him. “Even now, the idea of being queen is still a little surreal to me. Maxwell’s offer sounded so magical when I was still in New York, but social season taught me… just how _unpleasant_ things can be. To put it mildly.” She gives another shake of her head. “Knowing theory and experiencing the reality of it firsthand are two very different things.”

“And yet you’re still here,” he points out. “And you’ve made up your mind to stay.”

Lady Sabrina narrows her eyes. “I will _not_ allow those people to get away with what they did.”

Bertrand nods in understanding. “Of course,” he agrees. Her anger is justified. “There is no forgiveness for what they did to you and – ”

“And for what they did to Liam,” she interjects, something in her expression cold and hard, before once more she turns her gaze to the flames. _“They ruined everything for him,”_ she says, in a voice so low, so _controlled,_ it makes even Bertrand pause. “They took his choice away from him, on what should have been the most important day of his life.”

Bertrand frowns, the way she has framed her words catching him off-guard. “Lady Sabrina – ” he calls out, stopping when he sees how her knuckles have turned white from clenching her fists too hard. It isn’t until his eyes find hers that he sees the hint of hurt and despair in them, and finally a realization dawns on him –

He has never seen her cry since the Coronation Ball.

Lady Sabrina hasn’t shed a single tear – not when they found her in the Cordonian airport with no one else but the palace guards, and not once in the last few weeks that she has been staying at the Beaumont estate.

This young woman – whose only fault was catching the eye of the Crown Prince of Cordonia, whose reputation has been dragged through the mud by people who are after the crown, and whose identity has been overshadowed by labels like _‘the waitress’_ or _‘the mystery woman’_ or _‘the candidate from House Beaumont’_ – here, she stands, still holding herself together so well he can almost believe she has been preparing for this role all her life.

For what is probably the first time since the night of her ruin, the Duke of Ramsford looks at Lady Sabrina and sees a glimpse of the simmering anger that has been so well contained since the evening of the Coronation. It’s in her suddenly tense shoulders, her slightly trembling frame.

There is a reason, after all, why despite all his misgivings and doubts, Bertrand allowed her to carry the name of House Beaumont.

Bertrand clasps his hands together behind him. “Humor me, Lady Sabrina,” he hears himself saying. 

“How did you come to your decision to stay?”

* * *

Lady Sabrina takes her seat in front of the fireplace. The dancing flames cast shadows over her face, making it difficult for Bertrand to make out her expression. When she finally speaks, her voice is low, strained.

“Whenever we could sneak away together, Liam would tell me stories about how he grew up. Stories of his mischief… stories of his preparation for his role as king. Funny, fairytales always made it sound as if princes like him could have anything that they wanted.” She shakes her head. “But the more that he told me, the more it sounded like he didn’t have much of a childhood.”

“But this is Liam, so of course he doesn’t ever dwell on that. He accepts it as a fact of life and he moves on. To him, there are bigger things than missing his own childhood. Like the good he can do for his country… like the difference he can make in the lives of his people.” She manages a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Unsurprising, really. This is the same person whose own bachelor party was not about what _he_ wanted, but what his friends did.”

Bertrand frowns. He remembers Maxwell going on that trip, together with King Liam’s other friends.

“There is one thing, though, that Liam has never said to me,” she says. “He has never once told me that he doesn’t want to be king.”

“Because he does,” Bertrand supplies. He might not be as familiar with the King as Maxwell is, but Bertrand has seen enough of the man to know one thing true – there isn’t anyone more suitable to rule Cordonia than King Liam himself.

“Because he does,” Lady Sabrina agrees, something like pride in her voice. “The former Crown Prince might have abdicated, but Cordonia has Liam – and he really, _truly_ wants to be king. And not just any king, but a king who will put his country first, in every decision that he makes. A king whom people can look to and find hope in.” There is a faraway look in her eyes, as if she is echoing a conversation from not too long ago. “A king who will use his power to help those who have none.”

“A long time ago now, Liam told me he never once entertained the idea of having romance in his life. I didn’t think much of it at that time, but I always wondered why he kept… pushing me away… why he kept me at arm’s length, whenever he could.” She clasps her hands together, looks down at them. “He didn’t want me to fall in love with him, should powers in Cordonia prefer someone else to be his queen.”

She takes a slow, steadying breath. “He would never in a million years tell me so, but eventually I understood: He knows he might have to let me go. Not because he doesn’t care for me, but because he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness for his people.”

Bertrand squares his shoulders, only then realizing how closely he has been listening. “And your feelings for him?” he asks. King Liam might have already known the sacrifices that being king entails, but what about Lady Sabrina? “What would you have done… had it come to that?”

Her answer is honest and straightforward. “I don’t know, Bertrand,” she says. “Which is why I figured I’d just have to make sure that it wouldn’t have to.”

Bertrand narrows his eyes at her, unsure what to make of the statement. “…what do you mean?”

“I decided that Liam won’t ever have to let me go – because I won’t give him any reason to,” she tells him, her voice firm. “All I needed to do was win the approval of everyone at court.”

Bertrand stares at her for a long time. He has greatly underestimated how much thought she has been giving to her conduct during the social season. “Which you did,” he says, remembering how the media and the public have all but sung Lady Sabrina praises in the days prior to the Coronation. “Everyone was rooting for you to be the next queen.”

Lady Sabrina nods. “I decided that if I couldn’t give Liam anything else,” she says, “I could at least make sure that this would be the one time in his life that he wouldn’t have to choose between his happiness and his duty.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of them, solemn and thoughtful. Against his better judgement, Bertrand considers Lady Sabrina’s words. The rational part of him knows that the idea is too ridiculous, too absurd to even bother with – it’s a thought that never would have even occurred to someone who was born of nobility.

But there’s a small part of Bertrand, too, that somehow _knows_ – the fact that Lady Sabrina wasn’t born into nobility makes her idea worth thinking about in the first place.

“To imagine a world where a king wouldn’t have to choose between his happiness and his duty…” Bertrand huffs, a small, incredulous smirk tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. “A little silly, Lady Sabrina, and also a little stupid.”

She meets his gaze squarely, as if knowing he has more to say. “But?”

“But _brave_ ,” he tells her, and knows that he means it. “Certainly an idea I never would have considered. Especially not for someone like King Liam, who is duty-bound to always put Cordonia’s best interest, first and foremost.” He gives her a nod. “You know this.”

“I do,” she agrees, rising from her seat. “Which is why I’ve decided – that if Liam the King will have to put everyone else’s needs before his own, then I will be the one person who will always put him first.” She looks over to Bertrand, her eyes clear and bright and dry, the reflection of the flames making them seem so much more alive in that moment. “His queen.”

For what seems to be a small eternity, silence rules over the room, heavy and thick. Lady Sabrina tilts her chin, as if in challenge, her features twisted by a mixture of love and protectiveness so fierce it makes the words catch in Bertrand’s throat.

It seems so long ago now, when Cordonia’s nobility first welcomed Lady Sabrina with skeptical, mocking stares. Bertrand still remembers the condescending wager that went on among the nobles in the first few weeks of the social season. No one believed ‘House Beaumont’s little pawn’ would last so long in a game that destroys even the most veteran politician with a single, misspoken word.

 _“A pawn starts out as the weakest piece on the chess board,”_ Bertrand remembers his chess tutor once tell him. “ _But it can also become the most powerful one.”_

He looks at Lady Sabrina carefully, wondering if this was Maxwell meant when he said he found hope for Cordonia in New York City. “It won’t be easy, Lady Sabrina.”

“Nothing ever is,” she agrees. “But I’ve made my decision.” 

He watches her pick up her drink. “I _will_ be the Queen of Cordonia,” she asserts, and when Bertrand’s eyes meet hers there is something almost inspiring in the quiet, solid conviction in them. “But above all else, I will be Liam’s queen – one that deserves to stand by his side.”

She raises her glass, as if in a toast, the defiant smile on her lips accompanied by an unwavering expression of determination on her face.

_“And that’s a promise.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from Tumblr.


End file.
